


Praeceptor Perimus

by VolunteerFieryDantooinian



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fever Dreams, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, Spoilers for C2E22, which is all I write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 06:25:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14910062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolunteerFieryDantooinian/pseuds/VolunteerFieryDantooinian
Summary: Fjord insists upon taking the floor again, and wakes up sick. Mollymauk dotes.





	Praeceptor Perimus

They arrived back at the inn very late, and the events of the day were wearing on all of the party’s nerves. 

Fjord had already been exhausted, ever since he had accidentally absorbed the stone, and it was really showing. Beau, bless her, had offered her staff for the trek back for him to lean on, but he had refused, knowing she could need it. Jester couldn’t even heal him from this- he was just bone tired, and there was a vague sense of unease in the pit of his stomach that wasn’t caused by the rock he’d  _fucking shoved into his gut._ He hadn’t even swallowed it, he had just absorbed the goddamn thing. 

They finally reached the inn and the party breathed a collective sigh of relief, especially Fjord. They all wasted no time heading back down to their rooms, and while Mollymauk fussed over his swords, Fjord shakily slumped to the floor, shedding his armor and curling up with his bedroll in the corner of the room. Molly looked over at him with an expression he didn’t recognize. It wasn’t pity- the expression was tinged slightly with concern, but only slightly. 

“Fjord, you can have the bed, if you’d like. I don’t mind sharing, either,” He said, an open expression on his face. Fjord shook his head and curled up in the very wet corner of the room. 

“Nothin’ against you, Molly, but I’ll pass. I can sleep just fine here,” He said, voice a little rough from the saltwater. Molly winced slightly. 

“Sorry for shoving you under before, the first time,” He said. 

“It’s alright,” Fjord curled up on his side, and Molly extinguished the candle. It didn’t take long for him to pass into uneasy sleep, and it took even less time for him to pass into a dream. 

When he opened his eyes, he was himself, this time. That was nice at least. He looked around, and found himself in cool darkness. The familiar weight of his falchion was balanced in his palm, and he spun it slowly. The eye centered in the base was certainly disturbing, and it blinked in the darkness at him.

From it, more eyes- and then more, and then even more. Yellow, glowing eyes, casting his green skin in a sickly light. They stared down upon him, all too similar to the single searchlight beam of his Patron. 

A single word echoed through his head, too loud, too deep. 

 _Potential._  

As the eyes gazed upon him, a sickening sort of hunger settled in his stomach, a feeling of emptiness. All of the eyes thinned to tiny pinpricks of yellow light and shot into his stomach, intensifying the agonizing hunger that sat there. He hadn’t eaten since the day before, yes, but this was a metaphorical hunger as well, a painful ache. 

Then, the looming, searchlight eye of his patron appeared, golden and shimmering. Beautiful in the darkness. 

_Consume._

The word hissed around his head like a reminder, and the hunger dissipated. Suddenly, he felt a heavy, horrible weight in his stomach, a sickening weight, as if.. As if he had swallowed a stone. 

After what felt like a painful eternity, the feeling vanished, and the light of the eye went out. Fjord snapped awake in the sudden, confusing darkness of their room, shivering violently in the two inches of water on the floor, his stomach rolling like he was on the deck of a ship. 

“M-Molly,” He managed, voice weak and shaky, and he coughed, a dribble of saltwater trickling down his chin. Mercifully, that was the extent of his coughing. He looked over to Mollymauk’s bed and saw the tiefling sitting up, confused. 

“Yes, Fjord? It’s- gods, it’s the very cusp of the morning, are you alright?” Molly said softly, walking sleepily over to where he was lying, and Fjord shook his head. He was shivering badly, and there was a dreadful ache in his stomach that was painfully similar to the feeling in the dream. Nervously, he touched a hand to his abdomen- no feeling of having literally swallowed a rock, thank goodness. Molly met his eyes as he did this. “Okay, darling, why don’t you come lie down? You look just dreadful,” He murmured, and Fjord shook his head.

”Don’t wanna get up,” His voice was rough and his stomach protested even at his speech. Fjord kept a hand splayed there in pain. Mollymauk noticed this, and handed him the trash bin wordlessly. Fjord leaned over, clutching the thing with shaking hands and attempting to breathe. Molly made a soft, concerned noise and began to rub his back in slow, circular motions. 

“Is this alright?” He asked, stilling his movement. Fjord nodded, and Molly resumed. Not even his comfort was enough to spare him from being sick, and within minutes Fjord had already done so, leaning his head against the bin and making a pained noise. Molly made gentle, soothing sounds, carding his fingers through his hair. “It’s alright, darling. It’s alright, I’ve got you,” The steadying nature of his hands were practically all that was holding Fjord up, and he helped him sit back once he seemed stable enough to. Mollymauk reached a cautious hand out to feel his forehead. 

“Seems you’ve got a bit of a fever,” He tutted. “Poor thing, you haven’t been getting enough to sleep or eat and it’s been really doing a number on you, I bet,” Molly bit his lip and lit the candle once more, rummaging through his pack and finding a bag of something. 

“I’m going to be right back, alright, darling? I’m going to make you some tea,” His voice had a gentle note to it. Fjord nodded, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. The sight of the eyes burned at the back of his eyelids and he swore, stomach rolling at the memory. When he next opened his eyes, Mollymauk was sitting in front of him, shaking him gently. “Alright, let’s get you to bed.”

He helped Fjord to his feet, and he had to struggle to stay up. Molly carefully guided Fjord to the bed and tucked the blanket over him, gently taking his hand from where it rested against his stomach and pressing a mug of something warm into his hands. “Just drink a little, dear, it’ll make you feel better, I promise,” He murmured. 

Fjord shook his head. Absolutely fucking not. Ab-so-lute-ly not. He wasn’t drinking anything. “You were likely dehydrated even before you were sick, darling, you need to get something in you,” Molly’s voice was gentle and soothing, and deep down, Fjord knew he was right. He was shivering in the cold room, but there were beads of sweat on his forehead. His hands were almost too shaky to hold the cup, so he let Mollymauk help him. Fjord sipped the tea, slowly and carefully. It didn’t taste bad, not at all- there was a hint of pine to it, and something spicy and familiar. 

Mint was one of the flavors, and the other- “Ginger, should help your stomach settle down a little bit,” Molly said quietly. “Poor darling,” His voice had a gentle quality to it, and he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Fjord’s cheek. He brought out what he had in his other hand, a cloth of some kind, and he started to press it to Fjord’s forehead. It was cold and clammy, and it made him shiver. “You’ve had a rough enough day, you shouldn’t be having to deal with this,” He fretted, and crawled up onto the bed with Fjord. “Is this okay?” He asked, and Fjord nodded. Molly settled in, pulling the blankets up around both of them and lying next to Fjord. 

He tried to rest, he did, but he was so cold, even after drinking the tea. The cloth against his forehead seemed to be leaching the warmth out of him. 

“I’m freezing,” He managed, voice a thick, drawling mess. Molly frowned and crawled into his lap, throwing a casual arm around Fjord. He thought for a moment and adjusted the cloth on his forehead. He shivered again, more violently this time, and Molly sighed and set the cloth aside. 

“Is this alright?” He asked, and Fjord nodded. “If you’re going to try and sleep, which you are, lie on your left side, not your right,” He instructed, and Fjord followed his orders without question.

Molly curled up against his back like a hot water bottle, curling an arm around his waist and fitting his chin on the top of Fjord’s head. The panic from the dream had mostly worn off, and had left him with sheer exhaustion, not unlike before. But this time, with the warmth of Mollymauk curled around him, he fell into dreamless sleep. 

 


End file.
